


Feeling It

by the_diggler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - It's a Terrible Life (Supernatural), Barista Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Loves Pie, Fluff, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_diggler/pseuds/the_diggler
Summary: The cafe along Dean's jogging route provides too many temptations to resist.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 124





	Feeling It

**Author's Note:**

> Looking back on it, there's no real reason why this has to be Dean Smith as opposed to any other kind of office worker AU. That's just how it clicked in my head at the time :)

  
  
Dean Smith was definitely not “feeling it.”  
  
Oh he was feeling _something,_ though.  
  
The burn.  
  
And the beginnings of a stitch. Definitely a stitch.  
  
He lurched to a stop on the sidewalk, his hands going to his sweatpant-covered knees to support himself as he bent over and tried to catch his breath.  
  
He hated running. But he’d tried the salads and the shakes, the detox diets, and even colonics… in the end it was just too much to ask for him to give up burgers and beer. And pie. Goddamn how Dean loved him some pie.  
  
And so the inevitable. Too much time at work, too much pie in the hole, added up to a good 15 pounds at the waistline, with no signs of stopping. So as much as all he wanted to do when he got home was pop a beer, plop on the couch, and pass out, he now found himself dragging his limbs into a pair of sweatpants instead, forcing himself from the safe confines of his shiny, happy, apartment, and out into the deep dark misery that was night-jogging.  
  
As the pain in his side began to recede Dean raised his head to take in his surroundings. He found himself in a kind of market area that he didn’t even know existed in his neighbourhood, lined with cafés and restaurants amid the odd bookshop or newsagency. It was nice, well-lit and welcoming, and Dean found he wasn’t the only jogger that favored this route as a few similarly attired men and women whooshed past him.  
  
Sonuvabitch.  
  
How dare they make this look so effortless.  
  
But it was this, or suffer the gym with all the other mindless beefcakes.  
  
Mmmm… cake.  
  
Goddamit, a whole _window_ of cake, and pie, and all kinds of freakin’ pastries in the café right in front of him.  
  
Come _on_.  
  
Dean winced as he straightened up, intent on escaping this evil boardwalk of temptation, but as he did so he saw the barista standing behind the cake counter, a small smirk on his ridiculously full lips, and his insanely blue eyes twinkling with humor as if he could read Dean’s every tortured thought.  
  
Holy crap the guy was hot.  
  
And Dean was… disgusting. Sweaty and uncomfortable and _fat_ and in no position to be propositioning a veritable… pastry- _god_.  
  
Dean had to get out of there quick.  
  
_Maybe_ , he told himself, if he could get rid of those 15 pounds, he might come back and… “reward” himself.  
  
But in the meantime, it didn’t mean Dean couldn’t look. And so he did, every day. Tried not to be obvious in slowing down when he passed the café, ostensibly eyeing the window full of pastries but really hoping to catch a glimpse of the even more delectable barista. And somehow, every time, the blue-eyed man seemed to sense that Dean was there, catching Dean’s gaze and sending him a smile in return.  
  
It helped Dean get through the second half of his runs.  
  
In fact, he’d begun to enjoy running so much, that weeks later, he was almost surprised to find that not only had he reached his goal weight, he’d even lost more than he’d intended to.  
  
So he thought he more than deserved it when the next day, instead of going straight home from work, he stopped by the market and walked into his favorite café for the first time. And in mere moments he was face to face with the star of his sugar-coated fantasies.  
  
“Hi,” the barista – ‘Castiel’ from his nametag - smiled, “What can I get you?”  
  
Dean’s eyes widened at the sound of the other man’s voice, deep and rough and laced with images of all the things Dean had imagined doing with the man. Castiel was sex on legs, and Dean suddenly felt… not as confident as he thought he was.  
  
“Um… can I get a slice of apple pie please? To go,” he added hastily, suddenly feeling weak in the knees and wanting nothing other than to flee the other man’s intense blue eyes. Guess he still had a few confidence issues to work on after all.  
  
Dean barely held it together as Castiel left to prepare his order. And when Castiel handed Dean his pie, brushing his fingers against Dean’s when he handed it to him, Dean practically bolted out of the place.  
  
It wasn’t until he was back at his car that Dean noticed the writing on the side of his pie-box:  
  
‘Dinner Saturday?’ followed by a phone number, which with a shock Dean realised had to be Castiel’s.  
  
“Huh.” Dean smiled.  
  
  
  
_~ fin Jan '12_

**Author's Note:**

> From the [Channel Surfing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24069724/chapters/57928723) series, inspired by an Australian [ad for Nestle Yoghurt](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D_tqo1mOcgA).


End file.
